Approaching Descent

On our way back to the villa, we took a new route and the new route took us next to a field filled with orange trees.

“Oh, stop the car,” I said, “and I’ll run out and grab a few oranges.”  You see, my goal upon getting to Spain was to make sangria.  The fresh fruit offerings in the market consisted of pears, peaches and for some reason, kiwi fruit.  When I saw the ripe oranges hanging off these trees, basking in the early evening Spanish sun, I knew this was the crucial ingredient.

Of course, Mr. Loch and Mr. Carr were having none of this idea¹ as they’ve been living here for almost two months and don’t want to piss off the locals by stealing oranges.  It was a valid argument and hard to refute.  As I was starting to mentally bid aduie to this newfound citrus cove, I saw an older gentleman working near the road and among the trees.

I changed my tactic.  “Oh, stop the car,” I said, “and I’ll run and ask this man if we can have a few oranges!”  There was hesitation, but I won and they turned the car around.  I got out and after a jovial “Ola!” asked him about the oranges and would it be possible to have about three?  He asked me if I had a bag.  A man with orange trees is asking me if I have a bag and my answer is definitely “si”.  

“Eris, when he comes back, ask him if he has any cows.” commented Rob.

Well, when he came back, my initial query of “tres” had turned into “ton”.  The bag was overflowing with big oranges that, not four minutes earlier, had been living happy lives in the trees and in the sun.  We tried to offer the man money, but he was having none of it.  I felt so thankful and so humbled at his generosity.

After many mucho gracias’, we took our bag of oranges and I knew this was going to be the best sangria ever made.

1. Mr. Rutherford had chosen to stay at the villa and “work”.  At first I thought he was kidding.  Until he pulled out the Rails book.  There’s no rest for the wicked. [↩]